


Holding On Through the Years

by mokayno



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Progression, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Fluff, M/M, beware of fluff, copious amounts of it, dangerous fluff, hand holding, mentions of child abuse, seriously i almost killed myself with the fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 19:30:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mokayno/pseuds/mokayno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And every single successful love story has those unbearable and unbearably exciting moments of hand-holding.”  - Quote from Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding On Through the Years

**Author's Note:**

> The quote from that book is what I think of every time I think of holding hands. Such a good line, and good book. Anyway! This is a fic I wrote for someone I like to consider a friend, even though we don't talk a whole heck of a lot. It was her birthday, technically yesterday, and I can't draw so here we go! I hope you all enjoy it. :)

You remember the first time he held your hand. It was actually the first time he spoke to you. It was years ago, you think you were seven, maybe eight years old at the time. It was the typical bigger kids like to pick on the smaller kid deal. You were minding your own business on the playground when all of a sudden a shadow fell over you. You remember looking up and seeing an older kid, you don’t remember his name though.

You cheerfully grinned up at him from your place on the swing, where you’d been admiring the clouds, “Hey there,” you had said to him.

“This is my swing, dorkface. Get off of it,” he scowled down at you and his goons laughed.

“Oh…ugh…I didn’t see any name on it. Is it okay if I swing here for a little longer,” you asked.

“ _Is it okay if I swing here a little longer?_ ” the boy had mimicked you, and again his friends laughed.

You weren’t sure why these boys were being mean to you, but you weren’t going to take it, “stop it and go away. I was here first that means it’s my swing today, you can have it tomorrow.”

“I don’t want it tomorrow though, I want it right now,” the bully walked over to you and pushed you off of the swing. You fell down on your back, the air knocking itself out of you. You felt dazed for a moment, and started coughing. The kids started laughing at you. You would have told them to stop if you could have just stopped coughing.

“Hey, you big ugly smelly fart,” a voice called from behind the bigger boys. They turned around, and laughed some more at who they saw there.

“Who the heck are you,” the one who pushed you down questioned the mysterious stranger.

“Oh hey, I think he’s that new kid I keep hearing about,” one of them said.

“Hey new kid, why don’t you get lost shrimpy, we’re busy here and it’s none of your business.”

“Why don’t you go suck a dick you piece of shit,” the boy responded as he walked over to them, “and I’m not a shrimp, you’re just too much of a tub of lard so everyone looks smaller than you.”

The bigger boys face contorted in rage while mixed with shock at the other boys choice of words, “oh I’m going to pound your face into next week shrimpy shrimp!”

The new kid brought his foot back, and kicked the bully hard in the shin. The bully winced, and clutched at his shin, tears welling up in his eyes, “I’m teellliiiing o-on you,” he whined.

“Go ahead, and I’ll just tell the teacher that you were pushing people off the swings,” the new kid walked over to you extending a hand down to help you up, “are you okay?”

The bully scowled and his friends scowled too as they walked off. You stared up at the boy who had just rescued you from the bullies. He was a strange character to look at with his platinum blonde hair and pointy sunglasses. You took his offered hand, and nodded in answer to his question.

The boy sighed as you brushed yourself off, “you should really watch out, you know?”

You replied with a determined look on your face, “I could have taken them. They just surprised me is all!”

The boy looked at you with a small smirk on his face, “Yah right! You were just lying there all helpless like a damsel in distress. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for you.”

“Pfff!!! I was not helpless at all, and I'm a boy duuh, but…” you look down at the ground, blushing, “thanks anyway," you look up at him, "You’re new here?”

“Yah, my name’s Dave Strider,” he held his hand up in a fist to you making you flinch a little; “I’m not going to hit you. It’s a fist bump; it’s what cool people do.”

You stared at his hand unsure, so he took your hand in his curling your fingers into a fist before bumping it against his already fisted hand.

“See, simple as that. Now, what’s your name?”

You grinned, “John Egbert, hey wanna see who can get the highest on the swings the fastest?”

That was the first time he’d held your hand. It wasn’t really glamorous, or over the top romantic. In a way, you owe it to that bully for pushing you off the swings that day.

* * *

The next time you held hands, was a night you would never forget. You had been sleeping soundly in your bed, around the age of twelve, when you heard some tapping on your window. At first, you had thought it was part of your dream, but soon realized that no matter how you willed it to go away it wouldn’t. So, you woke up and stumbled over to your window. What you saw on the other side woke you up almost immediately.

It was your best friend sitting on the tree branch outside your window, but that wasn’t what surprised you. That was something he did on a pretty regular basis. No, what surprised you was the fact that his shades were missing. You knew something was wrong; he never took those things off. You slid open the window, and motioned for him to come in. He looked unsure at first, like he didn’t know if he could trust coming in. For some reason that scared you a little, as Dave had never had any problems waltzing into your room before. He took ‘mi casa es su casa’ to a whole new level.

You gave him one more wave, and he crawled in through the window. He avoided looking at you, hiding in the hood of his favorite red hoodie, covering up his face. You closed the window and turned to look him over. On a normal day, he was pretty laid back, but right now his body looked so tense.

“Dave,” you questioned him softly gripping at your Ghostbuster pajama shirt as you looked up at him trying to get him to meet your gaze. He remained silent, but you could hear him breathing. He was taking deep breaths in, as if to calm himself down. You didn’t know what to do, so you stood there awkwardly in the silence. When the silence got to be too much for you to handle, you spoke up, “Dave, what’s wrong?”

You watched as his fists tightened and relaxed a few times, before he turned around to face you. You couldn’t help the little gasp that escaped from your mouth at the sight in front of you. You were in shock. Dave’s right eye was closed from a bruise that was forming there, his left stared at you wide eyed and scared, and there was dried blood under his nostrils. It was hard to tell in the slight darkness, but you swore his cheeks were wet too.

He didn’t say anything, and you couldn’t make your voice work. So, you took him gently by the hand and quietly led him down the hallway to your bathroom. He let you, gripping your hand tightly as if it were a life-line and letting go would be the end of the world. Quietly, you cleaned his face gently of all the blood. You then focused your attention on the cut near his eyebrow, and below his eye. You carefully cleaned the wounds with peroxide, him hissing a little at the sting, so that they wouldn’t get infected. He held your hand tightly through it all. When you were finished, you brought him back to your room, telling him you would be right back with an icepack.

You went down stairs, tip-toeing as you made your way to the kitchen. You remembered your hands shaking as you opened the freezer door. You grabbed the icepack, and a cloth to wrap it in, returning to your room. Dave sat on the end of your bed, staring off into space. His eyes met with yours when you walked in, or at least his good eye did. He looked scared, and so vulnerable. You walked over to him, handing him the icepack, but he didn't do anything more than take it.

Slowly the story of what happened comes out; he’s quiet, quieter than you had ever heard him speak before. His dad had always been a little excessive with drinking, and had sometimes gotten pretty violent towards his Bro and him. But, it’d been so long since it happened that they thought he was over that bridge in his life. He didn’t go further into the details, but told you that Bro had told him to get out and stay out for the rest of the night. He hadn't known where else to go.

You still didn’t know what to say, so you took his hand in yours and coaxed him to lay down with you. Not once did you let go.

* * *

You remember the next hand holding experience as if it happened yesterday. For one, it was the day that Dave told you he liked you, as more than just bros. But also because of how it all went down, and how silly it all was.

It was during your class’s end of the year celebration. It was something that your school did yearly. Each class voted on what they would do to celebrate the end of the school year, and bring on summer time. That year your class had decided that renting out the local beach for the entire day would be super cool. You had been skeptical at first, because who likes to go to the beach with all of your classmates? Yuck. But, you figured it’d be a great opportunity to spend the day with your best buds!

Being the gentleman you’d been brought up to be, you had offered to go get some ice cream for Rose and Jade, Dave hadn’t wanted any. He was busy applying another layer of sunscreen to his pale face in a grumpy manner. Rose had made a comment about his face looking a little red already, and Dave hated getting sunburnt.

You stood in the ice cream line, staring down at the money in your hands, wondering what you had enough for. All of a sudden, there was a small petite hand on yours. You blinked at it confused before looking up at the owner. It was a girl from your class, but you didn’t remember her name. You think it was something along the lines of Haley. You didn’t know what to do, so you just stood there looking at her waiting for her to tell you why she was in your personal space.

“Hey sweet stuff,” she practically purred at you, moving closer, “I didn’t know they had cuties like you for sale at the ice cream stand or I would have brought more than a dollar,” she grins at you holding up a dollar. You think maybe she’s trying to be flirty or seductive but really it just makes her look desperate.

“Uh,” but before you can form a response, you feel someone moving her hand off of yours, only to replace it with their own.

“He’s not for sale,” what sounds like Dave’s voice comes from behind you; you turn your head to face him but have to squint as the sun is shining behind him. You feel his hand close over the money in your hand, as he holds it.

“And who are you to decide whether or not he’s available? Huh? It’s not like you’re anything special. So, why don’t you just move along buddy,” she glared over at Dave, her hands on her hips.

“Um, excuse me,” Dave put a hand to his chest feigning offense, “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even know your fucking name. Why don’t you get lost Barbie doll,” you could feel the indignation emanating from him.

“Uh…” was all you could manage to get out, because jeez, Dave was holding your hand, and you’d never seen him act this possessive before. At least, not since the time in Fourth grade when Sally Nimmerman had tried to take his apple juice.

The girl looked offended at being called a Barbie doll, but you thought that fit her pretty well. She looked over at you, her eyes basically pleading with you to do something about Dave. You felt Dave intertwine his fingers with yours as he glared down at the girl, you could feel a blush creeping its way onto your cheeks.

“Well! Aren’t you going to do something? Tell him you know who I am,” she was practically hysterical, and you honestly were starting to feel bad for her. You had no idea why she assumed you’d know her. Not only did she not seem to realize that Dave was your best bro, but you were pretty sure you’d never even had a class with her. You recall maybe having passed her in the halls once.

“Uh… Haley, right? I think I saw you in the halls once,” you had said with a questioning tone.

You flinched when she screeched out, “my name’s JESSICA, you ASSHOLE,” before she stomped away.

“Well, that was unusual,” you said as she stomped away, “thanks for coming to my rescue, dude.”

You looked up at Dave again, cursing the sun for being directly behind him as you squinted, and he looked down at you through the Aviator’s you’d gotten him for his 13th birthday. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two dollars. You gave him the best confused look you could with the sun shining in your eyes. He walked over to the ice cream stand, dragging you with him. The guy behind the counter asked him what he wanted. You watch as he looked up at the menu as if contemplating the kind of ice cream he wanted to get.

“I’m sorry sir, but I must have the wrong ice cream stand,” Dave says.

The guy behind the counter looked at Dave like he'd lost his mind. It was the only ice cream stand down the entire beach.

“Well, I’d heard some rumors going around that an ice cream stand on the beach was selling cute guys, but I don’t see them on the menu,” he sighed and looked over at you, “oh wait. I think I found what I was looking for,” he handed you the two dollars. You couldn't stop from blushing up at him as you pushed the money away with your free hand. You remember seeing a flash of hurt on his face before he hid it quickly.

You grinned up at him as you said, “free of charge.”

His face parted into the biggest smile you’d ever seen on him, before he squeezed your hand gently with his.

* * *

You wake up the sun shining through your bedroom window, and groan. You open your eyes only to see blobs of color that would be your furniture if you were wearing your glasses. But, you don’t want to be awake yet; the alarm hadn’t even gone off.

You look over and see a blob of person next to you and grin sleepily. You move in closer to where you can actually see him. He’s lying on his side facing you sound asleep. One of his legs is sprawled out over the edge of the bed, and the other is curled up toward you. One of his arms is tucked in under the pillows holding his head, while the other is carelessly laid out between the two of you. Reaching out for you.

Gently, you take his hand in yours. You play with his fingers, amazed at how different they are from your own. Yours are thin and long, tanned, and perfect for your piano playing. His are pale compared to yours, and not quite as long. Whereas your nails were trimmed, his were chewed off. You examined some faint scars he had there from fights long in the past. Slowly you intertwined your fingers with his, loving the feel of his warmth in your palm. Your tired grin stays plastered to your face as you throw your leg over his, leaving your hands clasped together as you drift back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to clarify that I don't condone child abuse? Ugh, I don't know why I feel the need to clarify that, but I do. Also! Dealing with that subject it wasn't any variation of 'Bro' or 'Dirk' that was the dad, nor was it 'Dad', it was just some dude who we're pretending was the Dad, and Bro was Bro or Dirk, whatever you want yo. I'm like half asleep right now, so I'm sorry if all of this was unnecessary. Woah big word.


End file.
